


Life Goes On, and We Go With It

by LitsyKalyptica



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 70s Fashion (Mentioned), Angst, Birthday Presents, Existential Crisis, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, John is Good at Computers, M/M, Past Character Death, Photographs, Present Day/ Old Joger, Roger Can't Text, Roger is Technologically Inept, Thinking About Death, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 21:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21105971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LitsyKalyptica/pseuds/LitsyKalyptica
Summary: John and Roger go through their old photo albums.





	Life Goes On, and We Go With It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [devereauxing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devereauxing/gifts).

John had a large desk and a small computer, and this suited him just fine. His attention was so often pulled in so many directions that he needed plenty of space for papers and documents and maybe a sandwich. Even in retirement he never stopped working –it felt wasteful to sit around, and now that the children were all grown the enormous house could feel so empty sometimes.

But now John was buzzing with excitement and the desk was carefully littered with dozens of photo albums. He was seventy years old today, and the whole family was coming over for a little party.

It was Roger’s idea, of course, to have a proper party. John would’ve been happy enough just spending the day with his loved ones, his husband and children and grandchildren (four little ones and counting!). But he hadn’t opposed the idea of putting up some balloons and streamers, and he could never say no to cake.

They wouldn’t be over for several more hours, though, so John was busying himself with an early birthday present from one of their sons: a digital photo frame. John was delighted upon opening it, but quickly realized he had very few photographs uploaded to his computer. So, for the sake of preserving their memories and making use of his gift, he got up before sunrise that morning to dig out their old albums and start scanning them. He smiled watching the white laser move across the film, relieved to know their happiest moments were being saved now forever.

Roger hated the laser, thinking it was somehow hurting the photographs. John had given up trying to convince him otherwise.

“What have you been up to?” Roger asked, standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame. John turned and smiled over at him, and explained, earning a small shudder from his husband that made John laugh. Roger pulled up a chair to sit next to him, somewhat reluctantly letting John put the photos through the scanner before he’d rescue them and slide them back into the plastic sheets.

“I’d say we’ve done a fair job of capturing these moments,” John said with a smile as they finished the first of seventeen albums.

Roger hummed in agreement or acknowledgement, sliding the first photo out of the next book and taking a moment to look at it, and cringe. “I’ll never forgive myself for that shirt.”

John laughed again as he took it and set it in the scanner. “I think it was Freddie’s shirt, wasn’t it?” He quickly swallowed around the small lump in his throat that formed whenever he thought of Freddie. The years and steady counseling have made the loss a bit less painful to remember, but it was always a delicate subject. Roger knew to never bring up Freddie to John if it could be helped, although he’d started lately to test the waters, always with a pang of guilt but hoping it would help John to cope a bit better. And John appreciated not being coddled. But it would always be difficult.

“No, he just wore it so often that you’d think so. And I’m not happy to admit that.”

John’s smile gradually loosened. He patted his husband’s hand. “Next photo, please.”

They went on like that for most of the morning. Their reminiscing was interrupted only by a call from Brian to wish John a happy birthday –“I made a post about it on my Instagram,” and he sounded so excited that he must’ve forgotten that neither John nor Roger used Instagram— and a text from their eldest daughter confirming what time they were expected. The text had inexplicably been sent to Roger, but John snatched it away and answered. Roger was, after all, quite hopeless a texter.

“I’ve got better things to do, and they make the keys so small!” He still had a flipphone, and they were all grateful for that. “If they want to talk to us, they know they can call.”

But John was quite distracted as he opened the fourth album of the day –their wedding photos. Had six years really gone by so quickly? Perhaps when you’re seventy time seems to move much too fast. They were happy years, at least, and happy memories from that day.

Roger peaked over to see what his husband was looking at, and huffed a laugh. “A good reason to throw a big party.” That was what the wedding had mostly been to Roger, and John was okay with that. They’d been living together almost forty years by that point –openly together since ‘94 when they adopted their first child… they had been in a state of As-Good-As-Married since at least the mid-80s to when they could make it official in 2015. So the actual wedding didn’t have to mean as much to Roger (already lukewarm to the institution at best) as it did to John.

But to John, that day was special.

“I’m surprised I hadn’t scanned these already,” he mumbled, fingers even more gentle with these than the crumbling 70s photos.

They spent a half hour or so saving these memories to their own folder. Once they were done, John rubbed at his eyes and wrinkled forehead and asked for a break. Roger looked at him in confusion (this was his activity, of course he could take a break), but agreed. “Let’s get some breakfast: your favorite, birthday boy.”

John smiled softly and followed Roger downstairs. His smile grew as he took in the decorations: bright colors that made him feel like a boy again. Not that John remembered any birthday parties from his childhood, but these pastel decorations made some warm feeling bubble up in his stomach, and he just wanted to hug and kiss the man who adorned their house like this. And he would, but later.

They sat together with plates of eggs and toast and sausage in their little breakfast nook. The dining room table was much too big for just the two of them, but would be used later on for the party. But once his belly was full on just half his food, and the warm bubbly feeling subsided with it, John started to feel much more morose.

He was seventy years old.

If he was lucky, he might have another ten years left. He couldn’t imagine carrying on much longer than that. Their oldest grandchild was seven –he’d perhaps see her graduate from secondary school, maybe her first day of university, but what about the younger children? Their second daughter had another baby on the way, and they all expected there would be more to come. Would he be there to see them grow up? Would they get to know their Grandpa at all?

He looked across the table at Roger, obliviously finishing his breakfast, and felt a knot in his stomach.

It wasn’t at all the first time John had thought like this. He’d lost enough people in his life for death to be quite a constant in his mind. “I’d like to go back to counseling,” he’d said on more than one occasion, including this morning, drawing Roger’s attention back to him.

“Alright. I’ll call Dr. Brunswick tomorrow, see if he’s available. If not, we’ll get someone even better.”

John’s mouth drew back in a tight smile. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life thinking about death.”

Roger reached across the table for his hand –a small gesture where words wouldn’t suffice. John took it gratefully. One day all of this would be gone, but right now they had each other, and in each other they had everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please remember to comment!
> 
> allthe-queens-men.tumblr.com


End file.
